


Dumb Luck

by Spiciest_Meme



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I'll add more tags later, M/M, newtmas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 20:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiciest_Meme/pseuds/Spiciest_Meme
Summary: After Thomas shot Newt, WICKED went into disarray, scrambling to save the boy from an unexpected variable.They are able to save him, and, as if by a miracle, the bullet hit the infected part of his brain, killing the Flare. Thomas was completely unaware, until he received a phone call from the very man he shot.Based off of this "prompt" I found on pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/801711171142312888/





	Dumb Luck

**Chapter One**

**~Newt’s POV~**

 

_ WICKED said it was a miracle. _

_ Newt said it was pure dumb luck. _

 

He remembered the sound of Thomas’ pleas, remembered the anger ebbing inside of him, and the calm right before the storm. Before that bullet cracked through his skull. These memories twisted through his mind, molding together and creating some sort of sick nightmare. And hey, who knows. Maybe that is what Hell truly is.

 

For Newt, it had only been minutes. For the rest of the world, it was days before he would wake up. Newt opened his eyes slow and unsure. Where was he? Was he even alive? The pain in his head confirmed that he was, in fact, alive.

 

Newt sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in a dark room, sitting on a bed with some type of handlebars by the pillow, and paper-like sheets, he was also dressed in something that almost resembled a dress. Newt’s eyes drifted to the wooden cabinets. Some had posters on them, but it was too dark for him to process the words. Everything else in the room was a shade of gray. Boring, colorless, gray.

 

The door opened, and a man who appeared to be in his twenties flipped on the lightswitch. Newt immediately recoiled and covered his eyes. “Hey, watch it!” The man quickly shut it off again. “Sorry,” He muttered. “Forgot.” Newt nodded and uncovered his eyes.

 

“Why am I alive?” Newt asked, cutting to the chase.

 

“Well, Chancellor Paige saw what happened on the video feed and we immediately came over to pick you up. Since it wasn’t a variable we had predicted, Ava wanted us to fix you up and send you back out.”

 

“Are you daft? I wanted to die. It’s much, much better than seeing your mind fall apart right in front of you.”

 

“W-Well, that’s the thing. The bullet hit the part of the brain that was most affected by the Flare, therefore, curing you.”

 

Newt looked at him in disbelief. He was...cured? It seemed almost surreal to him. “You mean, I’m no longer going insane?”

 

“Nope, but we still have to wait for your wound to heal before sending you back to the other subjects.”

 

Newt processed that for a moment, before jumping to the next question. “How many are left?”

 

The man, which Newt assumed to be some sort of med-jack, ran a hand through his brown, wavy hair nervously; As if expecting Newt to lose his mind and attack him. “From your test group..? Only three have made it that I know of. A few from our second run of the trials made it as well.”

 

Only three? Newt felt his hopes fall into a dark abyss. “Who made it, exactly?”

 

“Thomas, Minho, and Gally.”

 

Newt nodded slowly and took it all in. Tommy and Minho were alive, and hopefully well. Maybe not mentally, but at least physically. The only downside to that was that he would have to face Tommy again after what had happened in the alley.

 

“You should rest,” The med-jack said, interrupting his thoughts. “It will help you heal faster, and then we can get you back to the others.”

 

Newt nodded and laid back in his bed. He heard the soft click of the door shutting, and the room went silent. In his mind, however, new thoughts began swarming his mind. How would he confront Tommy? Did Minho even know? Newt didn’t remember seeing him in the van. Newt sighed and allowed himself to fall back into his Hell, except this time, the old nightmares were drowned out by anxieties and fear.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Newt woke up again to that same old blank room. The difference, this time, was that sharp pain in his head had subsided to a dull ache. As if on cue, the med-jack from before walked in. “Are you feeling better?” Newt nodded and sat up. The man smiled and pulled a shiny object out of his pocket. “Here, Chancellor Paige wanted you to call Thomas. We gave him a phone in case of emergencies.” He handed Newt the phone. “His number is xxx-xxxx.”

 

Newt nodded and slowly dialed the numbers, anxious to talk to him again. The phone rang three times before Thomas picked up. “Hello? Chancellor Paige?” Thomas asked. His voice was full of worry, and he didn’t sound at all like the confident kid who had appeared in the Box. Newt took a breath and responded. “Tommy.” He could hear Thomas’ breath hitch. “Who is this?” Newt could tell he was already crying.

“The name’s Newt, Greenie.” Thomas fumbled for a response as he started to break down.

“Y-You’re alive..? B-But I shot you!” Thomas cried out.

 

“Your bullet cured me, Tommy. I’m not a bloody Crank anymore.” Newt could hear Thomas’ sobs through the phone, and Minho’s faint voice, bugging Thomas about what he was crying about. “You’ll see me soon, I’m going to be flying over shortly.” Newt waited to see if Thomas would calm down enough to answer, and after about a minute he decided the answer was no. 

 

“Bye, Tommy.”


End file.
